


No Place Like Home

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [48]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Domestic, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Therapy, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 13:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17582006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Stretch is home from the hospital but there are some wounds that need more than a doctor to heal.





	No Place Like Home

* * *

Edge was worried. 

Ever since they’d gotten home from the hospital, Stretch was terribly quiet, subdued, and Edge didn’t like it, not one bit. 

Since Stretch’s HP had been stable, once his magic had leveled out the hospital had been fine with releasing him. Not wanting his husband to have to stay any longer than necessary, Edge brought him fresh clothes; one of his favorite sweatshirts and track pants that had been worn to softness. Comfortable clothing that Stretch had pulled on awkwardly, so much so that Edge busied himself tidying the room instead of watching, gathering up the few books that Blue had brought and packing Stretch’s dirty clothes.

It hadn’t ended there. Stretch had been so quiet on the way home, staring out the window, and the radio’s attempt at filling the silence had been feeble at best. 

They’d gotten home all too quickly and Stretch had been sitting on the sofa watching mindless television ever since, not sprawled out like normal but with his legs drawn up against his chest and his arms wrapped around them, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Only his sockets peered over his raised knees and what little Edge could see of his expression spoke of misery. 

So, yes, he was worried. 

Sitting nearby in a chair while he folded towels, Edge kept half an eye on Stretch, taking in his drawn appearance, his dimmed eye lights.

Almost, Edge asked him if wanted to lay down in the bedroom and needed a hand up the stairs. He hesitated on it, letting the words die unspoken. Edge hadn’t asked to help him inside when they’d gotten home, instead allowing Stretch to walk in under his own steam, and he was wondering now if that was a mistake. He’d been trying to allow him a degree of independence after being denied it in the hospital, and with his brother, but perhaps Stretch was taking the lack of offer as a rejection. 

It hadn't been meant that way. Edge wasn’t angry, not anymore.

At the hospital, ah, that had been an exercise in restraint. Blue’s persistent mollycoddling was frustrating, it always set his teeth on edge, but worse was Stretch was meekly allowing all of it. Normally, he’d be sighing and sassing his brother in minutes, often getting railroaded but at least making the attempt. The past couple days? He hadn’t offered a word of complaint, not one. 

He was too _quiet_ , his easy chatter silenced. Consumed by guilt most likely, and probably would be for days. After all this, Edge was expecting a major depressive episode and he'd been toying with the idea of calling Stretch's therapist to see if he could schedule an extra appointment this week. He'd decided against it, thinking it better to discuss it with him first, allowing him to make the choice. 

As much as Edge's first instinct was to tighten his hold on the proverbial leash, to take control, he knew himself well enough to know that giving in to that impulse would be a mistake. Stretch’s guilt would probably allow it for a time, but eventually he'd chafe against it, the same as he did with his brother. To be honest, Edge never wanted to see Stretch at the point where he’d give in to something like that for any length of time.

He wanted to _care_ for Stretch, not control him. 

And as awful as everything in the past couple days had been, Stretch had made a _mistake_ , it happened, and Edge had already forgiven him for it. It seemed like forgiving himself was going to take Stretch more time.

But that didn’t mean Edge was going to watch his love sit in silent misery, not without even trying to help. 

Enough of this. 

He set the folded towels into the basket, pushing it aside. Stretch yelped when he scooped him up blanket and all, turning to sit with him in his lap. Edge settled him carefully with his back against the sofa arm, tucking the warm softness of the blanket around him. 

“hey, babe,” Stretch said, weakly. His smile was forced, and Edge felt a deep pang at the sight. Part of this was his fault, he knew; he’d shaken Stretch’s faith in their relationship, much as he hadn’t meant to. He’d done what was necessary at the time and now he needed to fix this, give him whatever reassurance he needed. 

“I want you to listen to me,” Edge said firmly. “Are you listening?”

Stretch gave a startled blink and said uncertainly, “yes?”

“You need to stop punishing yourself.”

“i’m not—”

“Aren’t you?” Edge countered. Stretch looked away. “Love, it is hurting my soul to see you so unhappy. Yes, you made a mistake. Yes, I was angry with you. Can I assume you won’t make the same mistake again?”

“yes,” Stretch said, his voice small.

“All right.” He tapped Stretch gently on the temple. “Then forget it, love. I know that’s easy for me to say. But I’m going say it until I’m sure it sticks. We don’t need to live in that mistake forever. I’ve forgiven you. Work on forgiving yourself, please?”

A single tear trailed from his socket, pale orange, and Edge wiped it away with a gloved thumb. “You’re always so hard on yourself. Now, what can I do to make you feel better? A snack? Something to drink?”

Edge would have given a great deal to not have seen the nervousness that flickered over Stretch’s expression before he blurted out, “can you hold me for a while?”

“Of course.” Not a problem, at all. Gently, he tugged Stretch closer, letting him bury his face into Edge’s shirt, one of his hands sliding back to clasp the back of Edge’s skull. Edge closed his sockets, resting his cheekbone against Stretch’s head and breathing in his sweetness. There was a lingering aroma of the hospital, sharp disinfectant. Before they went to bed, he was going to run Stretch a bath, let him scrub that last reminder away so he could come to their bed clean and fresh. 

For now, he simply wanted to indulge himself, glut himself on the feeling of Stretch in his arms, his light weight in his lap. There hadn’t been much opportunity in the hospital, and he’d been _craving_ this, a chance to reassure himself that Stretch was all right, warm and alive under his touch. It had been entirely too close a call; like always, Lady Luck might not take him by the hand, but she brushed by him in passing. 

“Rus?”

“hm?” He waited until Stretch looked up at him. His eye lights were already softer, hazy with contentment. 

He pressed their foreheads together, blurring his own vision, and said, firmly, “I would never leave you.”

Stretch gave him a wobbly smile, but he didn’t pull away. “heh, you say that now, but what if i went all superman 3 on you and started hacking my way through the city.”

“I meant what I said.” He might not give promises the same weight as Stretch and the Sanses, but this was one he had no intention of breaking. He didn’t care what happened. So long as Stretch wanted to be with him, that was where he would be.

He could feel Stretch take a shaky breath, nodding slowly. “okay, yeah. i get it.”

Edge pressed a kiss to Stretch’s cheekbone then murmured, “And if you went all Superman 3, I’d simply have to take care of you myself.”

That earned him a startled laugh, “um. wow. thanks? love murder is the best.”

“The truest sign of caring is never allowing someone to live on as a monster they’d despise,” Edge said serenely. He curled a finger beneath Stretch’s chin, tilting his head up, “However, I’m thinking the odds of that happening are very low. I doubt you’d manage to hack your way through half the town before you got bored.”

“a quarter is probably pushing it,” Stretch agreed breathlessly, leaning in for a soft kiss. “i love you, babe.”

“I love you,” Edge murmured back, stealing another slow kiss. Eventually, Stretch pulled away with a sigh, settling to rest his head on Edge’s shoulder. He drew the blanket back up, tucking it closer around them both, letting Stretch take comfort in his own natural warmth.

The television was droning on and early as it was, he could feel Stretch’s breathing evening out as he gave in to exhaustion and stress, drowsing against him. Good; he needed the rest and Edge needed the opportunity. 

After he fell asleep, Edge was going to exchange the e-cigarette he knew Stretch had tucked into his hoodie pocket for the one he had hidden in his. He'd even taken a puff off it a couple of times to make sure it had a used appearance, vile as it was. 

Whatever tracking device or microphone Red had secreted in that little 'gift' wasn’t about to remain in their house, and Edge was in no doubt that there was one, more likely both. It left him torn between irritation and exasperation at Red; he and his brother were going to have to have another long, likely useless, talk about boundaries. 

Until then, he snidely hoped his brother was getting a good earful of them exchanging love words and kisses. It would serve him right. 

-finis-

**Author's Note:**

> I have to say I was amused at how many people guessed Red's little gift wasn't entirely altruistic. Oh, Red. That's my boy.


End file.
